


Sing to me like steel

by Ravensmores



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Angst and Feels, Bittersweet Ending, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Break Up Talk, Doctor Katsuki Yuuri, Don’t copy to another site, Hitman Victor Nikiforov, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mild Blood, Past Relationship(s), Smut, Talking, Top Victor Nikiforov, accompanying artwork, angst bang 2019, this is in the ANGST bang for a reason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-09 17:57:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20998976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravensmores/pseuds/Ravensmores
Summary: “I just know I’d hate myself even more if I didn’t tell you.” Victor’s voice is surprisingly hesitant as he wipes his face, hand still resting softly in Yuuri’s. “If- if I didn’t ask if there was still a chance.”Yuuri winces a little at the words. “You honestly thought there would be?”Victor’s shrugs lightly, smiling softening to something a little more genuine. “Maybe.”Yuuri sighs again, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.Victor never did anything by halves. He was ridiculous in his dedication, loved with his whole heart, did everything he could to make Yuuri smile- just because he wanted to. When Yuuri first knew him, it was one of the things he liked about him the most, his stupid determination something he could count on whatever they were doing together.It also meant he never relented when there was something he wanted. No matter the obstacles put in front of him.It’s why Yuuri had expected this sooner or later. And why there could only ever be one response.“You killed people Victor.”For the 2019 Victuuri angst bang!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First things first, I want to give a HUGE thank you to the wonderful artist for this event, [Impatvish.](https://www.instagram.com/impatvish/)  
Please go and give them ALL the love as they've been an absolute joy to work with throughout this event.
> 
> Secondly, I have to give a shout out to all the mods for this angst bang as well as everyone on the discord, you really helped me get this done without dying from a stress meltdown!
> 
> I'm going to reiterate a couple of the content warnings here, just to be safe: CW: Blood (mild), CW: Injury (mild)
> 
> Please enjoy, this was so much fun to work on! ... and listen to [THIS](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VhLEoDOmWgA/) while you do ;)

Yuuri can feel something is off the second he walks through his front door.

Out of work, he likes his spaces dark. Spending so much of his time running or stressing under garishly sterile lights, it’s a relief to shove a pillow over his face on his break or come home to the comforting shadow of complete darkness. A darkness which tonight has quite clearly been disturbed.

It’s subtle, but he can just about see the tiny stretch of light flickering under the door of his office, the faintest brush of someone moving around inside scratching like a frightened mouse moving across the hardwood.

The weight of tiredness from his shift is evaporated in an instant, a bright panic shooting hot and uneasy throughout his system as he stares at light in front of him.

He flicks his eyes back to the front door, suspicions confirmed that there aren’t any signs or forced entry.

This wasn’t just a random break in, there was intent here.

The slim hope that it may just be someone popping over for a visit is quickly dashed by the soft glow of his watch-face ticking over to 3.00AM. He slowly looks back to the door, swallowing thickly at the thought that anyone he’d given his new key too would have called to say they were coming over, especially if it was an emergency.

His hand clamps around his keys, every breath he takes sounding louder than the rattle of a car engine through the shadows.

He hadn’t exactly been quiet when he’d opened the front door, but judging by the continued gentle movements from his office, the stranger beyond hadn’t noticed him come in.

A small flicker of confusion cuts through the sea of worry when he notices that his laptop is still right where he left it this morning, the small TV in the corner untouched. He didn’t have anything of any real value in his office besides some old books he’d been collecting over the years. If someone was trying to rob him, why leave everything easy to pawn untouched?

_ Unless they weren’t looking for him. They wanted to see- _

His stomach flips nastily before he can finish the thought, fingers scrambling desperately in his pocket for his phone so he can call the police. He bites his tongue to stop the anguished noise when he sees that it’s dead, quickly whipping his head back around to the open door.

He knows he can leave, that he can slowly walk back outside, flag down the nearest car and call the police. Knows that’s probably the _ smart _thing to do.

It’s the niggling thought about _ who _the person in his house could be looking for that has his feet still rooted to the ground. About what would happen to him if the police caught someone like that- about what they could say about Yuuri. All the things he’s hidden.

He takes a breath, and slowly takes a step towards the light. 

He’d ignored the fact for months, desperately tried to put a tight lid on everything that had happened before summer, but that hadn’t stopped the same thought dripping like poison in the back of his mind every time he’d left for the hospital. 

They’d come for him eventually.

Swallowing his fear, he blindly reaches out to the side, scrambling for anything he could use as some kind of weapon.

He tries not to choke on a fresh wave of panic at the thought that whoever’s there is almost definitely armed.

Taking another step forward, his hip brushes against the bag to the side, a set of unused golf clubs shifting gently at the subtle movement.

Looking in front of him, he sighs and grabs the nearest one, aware that this was probably the best he was probably going to get between here and his office door.

Gripping the cool metal in both hands, he walks forward as silently as he can. Every step against the carpet feels like he’s dragging his feet through tar, the silent terror behind the flat wood of the door like phantom chains around his ankles, twisting and pulling him back towards the safety of the night air behind him.

He pauses for a good twenty seconds outside of the door, trying to calm himself just a little. He can feel the erratic hammer of his heart thumping in a wild rhythm in his chest, his pulse a staccatoed roar in his ear. Before he has another moment to second guess himself, his foot is out, kicking the door down with final sparks of his strength with the nine-iron swung above his head.

“Wait!”

The desperate shout rips through the room before Yuuri has a chance to flip the lights on fully.

His club freezes in mid-air.

He knows that voice. Knows that desperation.

Sitting on his sofa in the corner and dimly lit by the golden light of his reading lap is a man. A man with one hand rifling through his first aid kit, the other pressed shakily against a startlingly large patch of crimson seeping through the ruined material of the white shirt clinging to his skin. A man he knows all too well, and a man he’d been desperately trying to scrub from his consciousness for what felt like a lifetime at this point.

_ “Victor.” _

The man takes a few seconds to respond fully. Visibly swallowing, he slowly lifts his hand from the bag, expression morphing from shocked to a weakly embarrassed smile. “Yuuri. Hi.” 

The golf club in Yuuri’s hands clatters to the ground in an instant. 

“Why- how did you get in?”

“Backdoor.” His smile drops when he registers the disgusted shock probably painted clear as a storm on Yuuri’s face. “I- I thought you’d still be at the hospital.”

Yuuri opens his mouth to respond when his eyes drop to the redness above Victor’s hip. Any retort dies in his throat as his shirt shifts a little, revealing the full mess of the wound still fresh and angry at his side. Both his hands were stained crimson, an ugly trail of darkly scarlet drops leading from the backdoor to the edge of the sofa. He bites down his cry as zeroes in on the haphazard stitching attempt the other man had been making, the needle wet and shaking in his pale grip. “Oh God what did you do?”

Victor shrugs slightly and gives a weak grin. Yuuri hates it. “I would say this isn’t what it looks like but…” he trails off, fingers pinching the bloody needle in his hand a little harder, eyes wincing at the pain.

“I- How could you… Jesus.” Yuuri turns away for a few seconds, running a hand down his face as he sucks in a more vicious curse. 

Of everyone it could have been, _ of course _ it was going to be Victor _ . _Crashed in and wrecking everything in his usual fashion.

Yuuri lets out a heated exhale, unable to relax the fist now shaking at his side.

He’d just begun to think that he was okay again. That he could put that whole mess behind him and the tsunami of charming chaos that was _ Victor Nikiforov _ was far _ far _away from him by now.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” Victor murmurs quietly as Yuuri tries to regain his composure, something that almost sounded like a soft sincerity lacing his tone.

Yuuri doesn't buy it for a second.

“So breaking into my house just seemed like a fantastic idea.” The venom is his voice isn’t hidden, Yuuri perfectly aware that he wasn’t going to take anything he said at face value any more.

_ Not again. Never again. _

Victor doesn’t say anything for a few long seconds, the only sound between them the raggedness of his strained breathing.

“I know,” he eventually answers, his words small. “I just- I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” He holds up his other hand when Yuuri whips around with a thundered annoyance. “I knew if I went to the hospital I probably would have run into you and I know you didn’t want that so-” He trails off again as Yuuri takes a few definite steps forward, jaw set in a tight line.

“Just- shut up. Please.” He lets out another angry sigh as he takes in the full mess of the man in front of him, the flecks of blood dried in the silvery tangles of his hair, the tired shadow etched into the hollowed exhaustion around his eyes. If it was anyone else he’d feel disgusted at the sight, horrified at how this could happen to another human being. 

With Victor though- 

“God,” Yuuri murmurs as he looks back to the mess at Victor’s side. If he continues like this it was a one-way trip to an infection. 

Yuuri sighs, reaching past him to grab a clean set of gloves out of his bag before gently pulling the needle from Victor’s hand. “Give me that.”

Victor’s eyes widen as Yuuri settles down next to him, pulling his shirt back to properly inspect the wound. “Wait. You don’t-”

Yuuri holds up a hand, shaking his head. “You’ve already come this far. I’d prefer if you didn’t bleed out on my carpet any more than you already have.”

He feels Victor swallow as he carefully moves his fingers around the reddened skin, warm and wet against his touch. “Thank you.”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything, just focuses on preparing to disinfect the area. He doesn’t apologise when Victor flinches away from the cool touch of the cloth. 

“Knife wound?” Yuuri eventually murmurs, lining up the sides of the wound to get his sutures straight.

“Yeah.”

Yuuri doesn’t reply, but he knows the shadowed frustration in his eyes is speaking volumes.

“I wasn’t- it wasn’t a job.” Victor flinches again as Yuuri pushes the needle through his skin, trying with all his might not to do it any harder than he absolutely has to. “I’d been drinking, I was tired and on the way home I got mugged.” Yuuri feels the other man flounder when he doesn’t reply, keeping his eyes trained to the wound in front of him. “I swear. I’m done with all that. I haven’t even-”

“Victor. I don’t care.” He doesn’t lift his eyes, keeping his words as small and robotic as he actions. 

No more excuses. He knows none are going to be good enough.

Victor sighs again, his tone dropping to a cooler whisper. “Why do you think I don’t have a gun?”

Yuuri doesn’t reply, concentrating on finishing the task at hand. When Victor doesn’t speak, he can pretend it’s any other body, any other job. Just another patient he can send away and never see again. 

As he continues to work, he suddenly feels the worry from earlier slowly start to surface again. 

Just because it was Victor this time, doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be someone else next time. 

He pauses his work, grip tightening a little at the thought.

“When I first saw the light, I thought it was someone looking for you,” he says quietly, trying to keep his voice level.

Victor stiffens against his touch. “They wouldn’t look here.”

“And how do you know that?”

Victor fails to stop his gasp as Yuuri pushes the needle in again, his hand digging firmly in the sofa cushion below. “They never knew about us,” he answers a little breathlessly, biting his lip as the thread is pulled taut. “I’d never let that part of my life get anywhere near you.”

The short laugh that pushes past Yuuri’s lips is the coldest sound of the evening.

“You don’t have to listen to anything else I say, but please believe this.” He waits until Yuuri finally meets his eyes before he continues, his gaze desperate and open. “They’d never come here. I promise.”

For the briefest moment, Yuuri believes him. The earnest warmth to his voice, the sweet softness in his tone curled like a caress around each word- it almost breaks through the walls he’d spent so many months erecting around his heart.

_ Almost. _

“It’s the only reason I didn’t call the police,” Yuuri mutters icily as he flicks his gaze back to his hands, a sourness rising in his throat at just how easily Victor could pierce through his defences. “About all the things they could say to throw me under the bus.”

“There’s no proof of-”

“I’m the only reason you didn’t get arrested that night.” The words sink through the air like lead, the sentiment ricocheting around the room with a blunt anger both of them know all too well.

Yuuri feels Victor exhale against his touch as the silence stretches in front of them for a few long seconds, his other hand coming up to brush the matted silver mess of hair away from his eyes.

“I know.”

“If anything like that ever happens again…” Yuuri holds the needle in his hand for a few seconds, waiting for the frustrated shakes to stop. “I’m never covering for you. Not again.”

He’ll never forget that feeling. Staring the officer down, the images of that night flashing in cold red and grey behind his eyes again and again, wanting nothing more than to scream and cry as his world crumbled into ash around him... but just robotically repeating the same phrase over and over again until they finally let him leave.

_ No. I didn’t see anything. _

The needle is back through Victor’s skin in an instant with a firm blunt movement.

Victor yelps in surprise.

“_ Fuck- _” He sucks in a quick breath, knuckles strained white against the sofa as his head snaps back to Yuuri. “You could have warned me that was coming.”

Yuuri doesn’t flinch. “Yeah. I could have.”

“I guess six months isn’t enough time is it?”

He almost does it again at how light Victor’s tone is. “What do you think?” 

Yuuri doesn’t like to think back to that night. He can still feel the force of his anger, taste the venom on his tongue as he walked away, the street around them melting into a blur of neon and black as the shaky ‘_ Stay the hell away from me,’ _clawed past his lips in a painful scream.

He meant it then. He knows he still means it now.

“I think- that I definitely like the new glasses,” Victor eventually answers, the hand between them slowly lifting to tap the edge of Yuuri’s frames. “The blue looks really nice with your skin.”

Yuuri jerks his head away immediately. “Please. Just stop talking,” he whispers firmly. “I’m almost done.”

He can almost feel Victor swallowing whatever he was going to say next. He tries to finish as quickly as he can, pulling the thread taught and cutting it.

“I’m sorry. Really.” Victor’s words are the quietest of the evening as Yuuri carefully wraps his needle, resisting the urge to catch his eye. “I swear the only reason I came here is because I knew I could patch myself up and leave before you got home.” Yuuri feels the tremour of Victor’s exhale as he carefully brushes his ribs, inspecting his handiwork. 

When Yuuri doesn’t respond, he hears him sigh again, the hand by his side balling into a tighter fist. “I’m not delusional you know. I know you don’t want to see me”

Yuuri finally relents, lifting his head and catching something almost looked like regret shadowing Victor’s dimmed features. “I know,” he murmurs as he reaches in his bag for a fresh bandage.“Just- don’t do it again.” 

Victor nods slowly as Yuuri carefully adheres the wrap to his skin, smoothing it down with soft movements. “I won’t.”

Yuuri stays quiet as he starts to pack away his things, wanting nothing more than to just be done with this whole ordeal and hope he can blot out the last hour with enough whisky and sleep.

A small part of him wants to believe Victor. Wants to believe the sweet sad tale he’s spinning and that he really will be safe once the door swings shut behind him. 

The rest of him learned not to be that naive a long time ago. 

Despite everything, he still knows Victor. What he’s like, what he does and the kind of trouble that follows him no matter where he goes.

Yuuri isn’t sure he’ll ever really know true peace again.

“I thought you were leaving town anyway,” he states flatly as he rubs the edge of the bandage.

Victor looks down, twisting the ruined edge of his shirt between his fingers. “I was. But it turns out I had more loose ends to tie up than I thought.”

“Right.”

“I haven’t touched another job since-”

“Victor. Stop.” His voice is sharper than a scalpel as he cuts him off, frustration clear. “I meant it when I said I don’t care. What’s done is done and what you do now has nothing to do with me anymore.” 

To anyone else, Yuuri knows he’d sound cold, maybe even cruel- but this wasn’t anyone. It was the one person who knew the blunt chill of his anger intimately. 

The only person who knew how to bring it out of him.

Victor doesn’t answer, just quietly averts his gaze as Yuuri does one final check of his stitches, making sure the edges of the bandagde are properly secured.

Once Yuuri’s satisfied, he leans back slightly to pull off his gloves, tension bleeding from his body a little now the job is finally done.

“There,” he says softly, slowly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d tell you about the aftercare, but I’m sure you’re well aware.”

Victor smirks gently. “Someone did explain it to me _ very _well last time.”

“If I recall, I had to tell you twice as you definitely weren’t paying attention the first time.”

“I couldn’t help it,” Victor says, leaning forward a little. “You were very _ distracting _.”

Yuuri finds himself smiling a little at the memory. Walking back into the ER and seeing that beautiful silver-haired man now sporting a dopey grin thanks to the pain meds. He remembers seeing those eyes for the first time- blue like the sea back home, like the first clear sky of summer or the ice under his blades when he skated as a child. He remembers them crinkling with laughter when Yuuri kept trying to explain how to keep his stitches clean, shining with happiness when Yuuri agreed to a second date, shimmering with something honest and raw when he first told Yuuri he was beautiful.

_ Cold and flat as he squeezes the trigger, unflinching as the man in front of him crumples to the floor with a dull smack. _

In an instant his happiness shatters. 

Yuuri quickly shifts away, trying to regain his composure as he pushes that memory down as far as he can.

“If- if you need another shirt, you can have one,” he hastily mutters, snapping his first-aid kit closed with a definite click.

_ He can’t go back to that night. Not now. _

He watches Victor’s face fall a little, smile dropping to a flat line. He looks down to the stained mess stuck to his skin, the humour in his eyes fading. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

Yuuri nods slowly before standing, slightly uncertain of what to do now. His job as a doctor is done, the path in front of him now uncomfortably unclear.

It’s late and he’s tired, but he knows sleep isn’t going to come easily to him tonight, regardless of what Victor decides to do next. Despite everything he now knows about him, deep down Yuuri knows Victor won’t do anything he doesn’t want, won’t force Yuuri to let him stay if he doesn’t want him to.

He bites his lip, briefly weighing his options. 

_ Should he just tell him to leave? _

Before he can make up his mind, he suddenly feels himself being pulled back down to the sofa, Victor’s fingers curling around his own with a firm grip.

“What-” The rest of Yuuri’s protest dries in his throat when he sees the tears already wet on Victor’s cheeks, soft silvery pearls caught in his eyelashes as he holds Yuuri’s gaze with shaky eyes. 

He’s only seen that look once before. The night everything fell apart.

Hesitantly he lowers their joint hands to the cushion between them, resisting the urge to brush the tangle of his hair from his eyes as he leans forward a little. “Victor?”

Victor lets out a stuttered exhale, a fresh wave of tears spilling messy and hot down his face. “I still think about you. So much.” 

Yuuri swallows as his hand tightens, the urgent touch an echo of fear he’d seen clawing at his bedsheets when nightmares had shaken his frame. “Victor-”

“Every day I think about what happened, of all the ways I could have made it right. You were _ everything _ to me.” The words are quiet, but Yuuri can feel the force behind them, almost taste the raw desperation on his breath. “I know what you said, and what I did… I know I can’t take it back but _ please- _ don’t push me away _ .” _ Victor takes a staccatoed breath as he drops his gaze, his words whispered in a broken plea. _ “I can’t be alone again.” _

Yuuri feels the kiss of a familiar heartbreak bloom under his skin.

Despite the blur of time that had already passed, the poison in his thoughts, the vision of a future that had shattered in front of his eyes… he’s still weak when it comes to Victor. Even after he’d tried to move on, tried to drown his broken desperation in whisky and work and tell himself that the person he once knew wasn’t even real, he can’t help what he sees in front of him. 

_ His Victor. _

The shadow of that lonely little boy, haunted by the whispered chill of a sadness he’d tried so desperately to help him fight. The man with velvet in his touch, sugar in his words and flowers in his smile. That same man he’d once promised to stay with for the rest of their lives with a conviction he didn’t even know he was capable of. 

He turns his hand to rub the delicate underside of Victor’s wrist, speaking the words he knows they both need in this moment.

“It’s over Victor. You know that.” 

Victor takes a second to react, tears still dripping silently from his cheeks onto the edges of his shirt. Yuuri quietly waits until Victor finally moves, hastily rubbing his face with the sleeve of his free arm until Yuuri’s certain his eyes must be burned raw. 

When Victor looks back, Yuuri’s surprised to see his shaky expression gone, the practiced smile Yuuri is all-too familiar with suddenly back in place like nothing had even happened.

“Yes. Yes of course I do,” he says, voice just a little too bright to be convincing. “I’m - I’m sorry I said anything.”

Yuuri carefully reaches over with his free hand to pass him a tissue. He’d always been so pretty, even when he cried. “Of everything you’ve done, this really isn’t something you need to apologise for.”

“I just know I’d hate myself even more if I didn’t tell you.” Victor’s voice is surprisingly hesitant as he wipes his face, hand still resting softly in Yuuri’s. “If- if I didn’t ask if there was still a chance.”

Yuuri winces a little at the words. “You honestly thought there would be?”

Victor’s shrugs lightly, smiling softening to something a little more genuine. “Maybe.”

Yuuri sighs again, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

Victor never did anything by halves. He was ridiculous in his dedication, loved with his whole heart, did everything he could to make Yuuri smile- just because he wanted to. When Yuuri first knew him, it was one of the things he liked about him the most, his stupid determination something he could count on whatever they were doing together.

It also meant he never relented when there was something he wanted. No matter the obstacles put in front of him.

It’s why Yuuri had expected this sooner or later. And why there could only ever be one response.

“You killed people Victor.” 

His words sit uncomfortably in the air between them.

Victor doesn’t flinch at the statement, just drops his eyes a little to stare at their linked fingers for a quiet moment. 

“That was a long time ago.”

Yuuri exhales, shaking his head softly. “It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. That fact won’t change.”

Victor immediately opens his mouth to respond before closing it gently, shoulders sagging a little. “I know.”

Yuuri wishes now more than ever he has a drink. Or several. 

None of this is news to either of them, Yuuri’s opinion on Victor pretty firmly decided the night he ended everything. He’s thrown out every gift he’d ever given him, burned every letter, done everything he possibly could to try and bleach the facade of the life they’d been living together- and yet he still can’t bring himself to hate him.

Can’t bring himself not to feel sorry for the broken man still clinging to him so desperately. 

Eventually Victor breaks the awkward silence, raising his head to look at Yuuri with flat, glassy eyes.

“They weren’t good people you know.”

Yuuri’s immediately snatches his hand back at the words, all softness between them suddenly torn away.

“Are you seriously trying to justify yourself right now?”

Victor’s expression doesn’t change. “The world is better without them.”

It takes all of Yuuri’s strength not to break something. He pushes as far away from Victor as he can, breathing hot and shallow as a months-old anger finally bursts free. “And who gets to decide that exactly? You? Whoever paid you to do it? I have stitched more gang members back together then I can count, people who have done truly repugnant things and it’s still not my place to judge who’s worthy of life.” His words bite loudly through the air as he stares Victor down with cold, narrow eyes. “And it’s certainly not yours either.”

Victor flinches back a little, eyes wide at Yuuri’s sudden outburst. “You know I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes you did.” 

Victor doesn't speak for a minute, expression wary as Yuuri tries to steady his breathing a little. “I didn’t do it because I liked it you know,” he eventually answers, “I’m not-”

“Do you really think that makes it better?” Yuuri snaps, hands clenched painfully tight at his side, “you killed people for money. A _ lot _of people. How exactly did you think you were going to keep it from me?”

Victor regards the floor for a long moment, wringing his hands awkwardly in his lap. “That night was my last contract. I thought after that we could go somewhere better.” His body sags a little further, his head dropped to his hands. “Somewhere new.”

Yuuri lets out a short, bitter laugh. “And never tell me?”

“I didn’t know how.”

“How could you ever think that would work?” 

Victor slaps his hands to his thighs, turning to Yuuri with a short jerky motion. “I don’t know alright!”

It’s Yuuri’s turn to shift back at Victor’s sudden shout, another round of frustrated tears clear in the corners of his eyes.

“I- I was happy. We were happy. I just thought if we got away then I could hold onto what we had for a little longer.” He shakily runs a hand down his face, quickly wiping the wetness already starting to spill down his cheeks for a second time. “I just wanted to keep you safe.”

Yuuri takes in the words slowly, his anger slowly morphing into a more tired resignation. He knows this conversation can’t go anywhere else, knows Victor is never going to budge from his view. He just wants it to end. “Victor- that wasn’t your call to make.”

Victor sighs as he wipes his face again, inhaling shakily. “What else could I do?”

Yuuri slowly unclenches his fist, lightly rubbing the reddened indents where his nails had bitten into his palms. As much as he hadn’t wanted to, he’d been thinking the same thing ever since it happened. In that moment, everything had shattered, all his calm, his happiness, the life he thought he had crumpled like the person dropping in front of him. Of course on darker nights he was going to roll across to the empty half of his bed, running through everything he knew to see if there was something they could have done.

Some way it could be made right.

“That’s just it,” Yuuri answers softly, not daring to catch Victor’s eye. “There’s just no way it ever could have worked.”

In that moment all Yuuri wants to do is sleep. Just close his eyes and let everything melt away into a numbing darkness where everything didn’t have to be so complicated.

Maybe if he did, everything would somehow be okay when the morning came.

Through the cloud of his thoughts, he feels Victor slowly moving towards him again, hands coming to rest barely a breath from his own. He doesn’t have the energy to move, just keeps his eyes cast to the darker spots on his carpet as Victor lightly covers his fingers again.

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me you know,” he whispers, words warm with something deep and achingly painful. “No matter what, I don’t want to forget what we had.”

Yuuri doesn’t move his head. He just _ can’t _see the feeling breaking in Victor’s eyes.

Not after last time.

Even with everything that’s happened, there are still a thousand things he wants to say. A thousand aches, joys, murmurs of hate and forgiveness all poised on the tip of his tongue, ready to finally spill forth.

He bites them back, turning away as he quickly stands. “You need to rest,” he says as firmly as he can, keeping his gaze trained to the wall in front of him. 

He hears the creak of Victor moving from the sofa. “Yuuri-”

“Take my room and try not to aggravate the stitches,” he continues, taking a definite step forward when he feels Victor approach his back. “Just make sure you’re gone by morning.”

He feels Victor’s warm presence pause behind him for a few long seconds, the ghost of a touch hovering like a whisper just behind his shoulder. He remains firm, standing stony and dark as he looks forward, unable and unwilling to drag his eyes from the dimmed grey of the wall.

After a few more seconds, he feels Victor’s sigh against the back of his neck before registering his soft footsteps slowly heading towards the door. 

The whisky hidden in his desk is in his hands barely a minute later.

He grabs a tumbler from the side and pours himself a shaky glass, knocking back in two gulps. He quickly fills the glass again and drains it immediately, almost choking on the force of his swallow. 

Though the burn in his throat is nothing compared to the one raging like forest fire in his mind.

He’d tried everything to forget Victor and move on, to try and sponge the last year of his life from his memory and find his way back to some kind of normal. 

The glass is filled again in an instant, his fingers trembling slightly as he lifts it back to his mouth.

_ Normal. What does that even mean anymore? _

Once upon a time he had normal. He friends, his work, his dog… But then there was Victor. And before he could even blink, suddenly he was his normal. It was barely any time before everything he planned had him in mind as well. Thinking about a future together, about taking time off to see the world, that no matter how tired he was after work, whatever horrors and sadness he had to walk away from didn’t even matter when he could collapse back into the embrace of the man he loved at the end of the day.

And he did love him. So much. More than he thought he could ever love anyone. A kind of love that almost scared him when he sat up on more than one sleepless night, the burn of his insomnia subsiding just a little as he watched the man next to him shift and dream in the peaceful little cocoon they’d made together. 

But that wasn’t normal. It was an illusion, some kind of delicately spun web that Victor thought Yuuri wanted before it got torn apart so violently by a truth that couldn’t be hidden. 

One that meant he could never have any semblance of normal again. 

Yuuri takes another long sip of his drink, before reaching up to press the cool of the glass to his forehead.

He wants to hate Victor for that- and part of him does. Really despises how he just waltzed into his life and burrowed himself into almost one of his waking thoughts like it was nothing, not thinking for one minute about what could happen. What was definitely going to happen.

Yuuri lets his head fall back against the edge of the sofa, the whisky slowly starting to fuzz the edge of his bitter thoughts.

Victor really thought he could hide it. Could runaway and lie about what he did, _ who he was _, and live some sort of picture perfect fantasy with Yuuri.

He squeezes the glass in his hand until his knuckles start to burn.

Yuuri had taken an oath to do no harm. It was his dream since he was six to help people, keep them happy and healthy with every ounce of his being. How could Victor ever think that they’d be a remotely good fit?

He pours himself one more glass, swallowing it quickly before collapsing into a tight, frustrated pile on the carpet.

Bringing his knees to his chin, he lets the tears he’d been fighting for months finally ooze thick and messy down his face, one thought swirling loud and desperate in his mind.

_ Please. Just let me move on. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes there's more to be said.
> 
> And sometimes actions speak much louder than words

Yuuri knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

With his thoughts slightly fogged with whisky and everything from the past few hours still swirling in an achingly confusing mess in his mind, he knows the only thing he should really be doing right now is sleeping.

That still doesn’t stop him slowly creeping up the stairs towards his bedroom.

It’s like he’s sleep walking, drawn through the dark by some ineffable force until he’s standing outside his bedroom door, hand resting lightly on the handle.

The door is already slightly open, the faintest glow from his reading light casting a warm golden strip across the carpet. He’s fingers curl more firmly around the door handle, swallowing nervously as he stares at the flat of the wood in front of him.

He isn’t drunk enough to blame this on the alcohol, nor is he tired enough to claim exhausted delirium - he isn’t even completely sure why he’s even here. 

It isn’t smart, isn’t logical, no outcome of this action possibly boding well- and yet here he stands. Hovering like a moth drawn to the light, hooked on the promise of _ something _beyond. Something he needs.

Taking a breath, he pushes the door open and slowly steps inside.

He immediately sees Victor isn’t asleep.

He’s propped up on his side, eyes half open and staring at some undefined spot on Yuuri’s bed-side table. He’s discarded his ruined shirt, his bare torso resting against the mattress, the duvet lying just above the defined blade of his hip.

It’s such a familiar image, Yuuri staggering home late and exhausted, Victor still waiting up for him no matter the time with a sleepy smile and warm arms.

He can’t fight how much it hurts.

Victor sits up the second he sees Yuuri enter, quickly pulling the duvet up to his chest. “Yuuri?”

Yuuri stills in the doorway for a second. He knows he can still walk away, mutter some hasty excuse and head back downstairs to try and blot the softness of the sight in front of him with more whisky. 

He also knows he’s come too far to run away now.

He breathes out slowly as he closes the door behind him, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.

Victor doesn’t move away, just shifts a little to make room for Yuuri on the bed, lowering the sheet a little so it pools around his bare stomach.

Yuuri swallows, unable to stop himself slowly moving his eyes up and down the man in front of him. 

He’s still as handsome as ever, every inch of his body taught and defined. He remembers the first time Victor had stood shirtless in front of him, pressing Yuuri’s hand to the rapid beat of his heart and smiling as he let the touch trail across the pale expanse of his skin. He follows that same trail now: the constellations of freckles on his shoulders, the fine hairs dusting his chest, the sharp cut of his collar bones- each aspect of his as perfect as he remembers.

He pauses when he comes to the series of scars etched just above his hip, remembering how surprised he was when he first saw them- how someone as young as him could have so many.

“You told me you got that from fighting,” Yuuri whispers, gesturing to the various marks covering his arms and torso. He feels the subtle hitch in Victor’s breath as his fingers come to rest against one of the more prominent marks across his chest, old and pink form years of wear.

“It wasn’t a complete lie,” he answers quietly, eyes dropping to the spot Yuuri was softly pressing. “I was barely a man when I got most of them.”

Yuuri closes his eyes briefly, shaking away the images starting to bloom in his mind at the soft confession.

He really doesn’t want to think how long Victor has been doing this.

He lightly moves his fingers across his chest and down to the raised scars just above his stomach, brow furrowed. “Those are new.”

Victor swallows, his own hand coming to sit just shy of Yuuri’s. “When you try to walk away from a life like that... people are going to try and stop you.”

Yuuri exhales slowly, silently moves his finger to the reddish discolouration on his ribs. “This one?”

“Burn.”

He feels Victor’s muted shudder as he hand ghosts to the mark on his waist. “This one?”

“Fall.”

He lets his hand continue to trace the blemished map of Victor’s torso, the same cold pang of sympathy lancing through him at every defeated injury explanation.

After a few minutes, Yuuri’s hand finally comes to rest at Victor’s forearm, four lightly faded lines marked just below his elbow. “These ones?”

Victor laughs gently. “Makka.”

Yuuri blinks before smiling fondly as memories of the large happy poodle flood his mind. “How is she?”

“Very excitable,” Victor murmurs as he shifts a little under the duvet. “She misses you though”

“She told you that?”

“She sits staring out the door a lot, even when I’m home.” His expression is the softest of the evening, before it quickly falls, body tightening a little under Yuuri’s touch. “I think I’m going to send her to stay with my cousin for a while.”

Yuuri pauses his touch, surprised by the words. “You won’t take her with you?”

“She’s an old lady now and she doesn’t like to travel,” Victor continues, something colder flashing across his face. “It’s going to be strange not having her around.”

The ache in his tone is clear.

Yuuri knows that for most of Victor’s life, Makkachin was all he had. One night over dinner, he’d offhandedly mentioned that she was the only creature he could really call a friend. It wasn’t until much later Yuuri had realised just how true that statement really was.

Now he really was going to be alone. 

Despite everything, a growing part of Yuuri still wants to reach out and comfort him, tell him that somehow he was going to be okay- but he just can’t understand _ why. _

For months he’d tried his best to rip up the image he’d had of Victor in his mind and replace it with something colder, uglier- and yet looking at the soft, defeated sight in front of him, he just _can’t _anymore. Watching him speak with such fondness, he just can’t fathom how someone who loved as much as him, who could be as gentle and ridiculous as him could do the things he did without a shred of remorse. 

His fingers curl into a fist against Victor’s body, all the frustrated anguish that had been simmering for the past few months finally feeling like it was boiling over.

_ Despite it all, why can he still see so much good in him? _

“Victor,” he starts quietly, trying to choose his words very carefully. “Do you know the reason I haven’t wanted to see you?”

Victor’s eyes widen at the question before he drops them to the duvet, hanging his head a little. “Because I’m a monster.”

The words are flat but Yuuri knows the pain behind them, remembers screaming it at him that night when Victor had tried to pull him back.

Yuuri sighs and shifts a little closer to him, waiting until he lifts his head again. “At first I just… couldn’t understand how someone like you could do things like _ that, _ but as the weeks went by I realised there was something else too.” He briefly shuts his eyes as the cold dark memories of those days lance through him. “I see all sorts of things at the hospital. Terrible things. And every time I can’t help but wonder if it was you that caused them.” He holds up his hand when Victor opens his mouth, continuing as firmly as he can. “It doesn’t matter if you did or not, the fact that you even _ could _have is always going to stick with me.” He drops his head, eyes closing. “But that’s not even the worst part.”

He feels the subtle shift of the sheets as Victor moves, the lightest touch suddenly against his cheek, guiding his face back up. 

Victor’s expression is wary, “Yuuri?” 

He can’t help but lean into the touch. He knows this is wrong, all of it. Almost every part of him is screaming at him not to continue, yet he knows nothing can stop him now. 

He tired of the words sitting like cement in his chest.

He pushes down his fear, voice a choked whisper as he finally comes clean. “Despite everything, there hasn’t been a day since you left when I haven’t been terrified that the next body they roll in will be you.”

He sees the words hit Victor, sees the brief flash of something a little warmer flicker across his features before he shakes it away.

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know that.”

Victor sighs again as he pulls his hand away. “Does it even matter? It’s what I deserve anyway.”

“Stop that.” The words are out of Yuuri’s mouth immediately, quietly angry. “Right now I really don’t know if you _ deserve _anything to happen to you but- ” Yuuri bites his lip, hating the burn of emotion he can feel swelling in his throat. He swallows it down, leaning down to catch Victor’s eye again. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Not anymore.” As he finishes, he slowly moves his fingers to one of the deeper cuts across Victor’s chest, fanning out his fingers until he can the soft rhythm of his heart thumping under his fingers.

He tries to keep his breathing steady when he feels just how fast its beating.

Victor is still as marble under his touch, the hand cupping his cheek just that little bit hotter as the words sink into the air around them. Yuuri knows the flush starting to blossom across Victor’s nose has nothing to do with the heat, the rosy colour probably matching the blush he can feel spreading on his own cheeks.

“For the past few months, I didn’t want to believe you’d still be thinking about me,” Victor eventually answers, the words washing shaky and hot against Yuuri’s face. “I don’t deserve your worry.”

Yuuri can feel Victor’s quiet resignation like a cold breeze whispering through the moment, the defeat breaking yet another little piece of his heart.

He knows it shouldn’t, but he can almost see the razor’s edge of emotion they’re standing on right now, one more move from either of them and they’ll both tumble in. He knows he can step back, find some way to cool the moment, yet with every passing minute the urge to jump only pounds more strongly in his mind.

Even if he knows it’s wrong.

He can feel Victor’s slow exhale as he leans in a little further, hands sliding up to lightly curl around his shoulders. “Of course I still think about you,” he whispers, now resting close enough that he can see the silver sweep of each individual eyelash. “I wish to God that I didn’t but- what we had, what we were… I’m not sure if feelings like that will ever go away.”

Victor is still for a moment, but Yuuri can see the way his pupils dilate at the words, the subtle stutter of his breath as he closes the final distance between them, lightly pressing his forehead to Yuuri’s. It’s a familiar gesture, one Yuuri remembers with a fondness he can’t extinguish no matter how hard he tries. It’s bittersweet now, but he still melts into the feeling, closing his eyes as Victor’s words whisper against his skin. 

_ “Nothing could stop me from loving you” _

It’s a confirmation that deep down Yuuri already knew, yet hearing it finally spoken aloud has the sweetest pain unfurling in his chest. 

And it’s the only push he needs to finally give in.

He barely has to move to press his lips to Victor’s. He feels an old warmth blooming under his skin as they touch, the taste of vanilla ghosting across his tongue from the lip balm Yuuri knows he never goes anywhere without. 

He can sense Victor’s surprise at his action, his body stiff under his hands. He keeps the kiss gentle, just a soft press of fingers and lips before he moves back, hands slowly tracing up to rest against his neck. 

He smiles a little as Victor instinctively chases his lips, his eyes wide and deep like the ocean in the dark.

“Yuuri- why?” Strangely Victor doesn’t sound confused, but rather breathless, desperate. 

Everything Yuuri wants him to be right now.

He doesn't respond with words, just shifts until he’s properly straddling Victor’s hips over the duvet, hands moving to cup his jaw. There aren’t enough words in every book in his library to explain the maelstrom of conflicted feelings swirling in his mind, the only clear thought about how much he shouldn’t be doing this.

But how no force in the universe was going to stop him if Victor wanted it too.

He knows the look in his eyes is obvious as he pulls off his glasses and tosses them somewhere on the bed, Victor’s deepening surprise still clear as a beacon as the world around him shifts into a softer focus.

He sees Victor’s blurred outline move through the shadows, the warm pressure of his hands pull him that little bit closer. 

Even without his glasses he can see the conflict burning in Victor’s eyes, the hesitation poised on his lips as he holds himself still for a long quiet moment.

_ “Are you sure?” _

The words are a gentle breeze from Victor’s lips, but Yuuri feels them settle heavily in his heart. He’d always asked. Every single time Victor had laid his hands on him he’d seen that brief flicker of doubt in his eyes, like Yuuri would somehow disappear if he pressed too hard. It’s something he’d always been quietly thankful for, the nostalgia of the tone making something quiet and warm and unfurl in his gut.

Yuuri keeps his smile soft, lightly tracing the arch of Victor’s cheekbones as he breathes out his answer.

“_ Definitely _.”

Victor’s response is immediate.

Before Yuuri has a chance to breathe, Victor’s mouth is back on his, hot and desperate. He sinks into the feeling as arms wrap around his waist to pull him closer, groaning as Victor gently nips his bottom lip before softly soothing it with his tongue.

His hands move of their own volition, slowly sliding from his face, over the firm planes of his chest and down to the sharp cut of his hips- hot and familiar under his hands. Opening his eyes, he feels himself freeze a little at the wide, deep expression staring back at him.

It’s too much. Too raw, like he could drown in the desperate lust swimming in the blue of Victor’s eyes. He quickly buries his face in his neck, inhaling the sweet musky scent of his skin as he tries to ground himself.

He can’t get lost. Not now.

He feels Victor swallow as he twists to kiss the hollow of his throat, smirking as he shifts his groin across the growing hardness beneath him. 

He starts to rock against him, not silencing his own moan as the feeling flashes like an electric shock through his body. The feeling settles tingling and warm between his legs.

“_ Yuuri.” _

He doesn’t stop at the soft call, just moves to kiss down Victor’s neck again, pausing to gently bite at the juncture of his shoulder.

Firms hands are suddenly around his waist, roughly pushing until his back is suddenly flat against the mattress. Victor is a dimmed silhouette above him, the soft light of the lamp casting warm and gold across his skin. He looks almost almost god-like in the glow, every part of him the embodiment of temptation. Yuuri absentmindedly wets his bottom lip as he traces across the raw blush across Victor’s chest, over to the red marks across his neck, down the shake of his shoulders as he tries to even his breathing. 

He’s a complete mess- and Yuuri _ loves _it.

He pauses when he feels the rapid beat of his pulse against his neck, the weight of just how much Yuuri could affect him suddenly clear and hammering under his fingers. He quickly drags his touch away, moving upwards to stroke the soft curve of his mouth instead.

He catches something sparkle in Victor’s eye as he opens his mouth to quickly suck on the tip of his finger.

Yuuri feels his cheeks heat at the action.

Victor chuckles slightly as he releases the captive digit, leaning down to press his lips to the shell of his ear.

_ “You’re so cute when you blush like that.” _

Yuuri is silenced with a proper kiss before he has a chance to reply. Victor rests above him on one arm, the other slowly wandering down his body with a feather-soft touch. He pauses to slowly trace above the waistband of Yuuri’s pants, lightly teasing the skin under his navel before moving lower to cup him fully through the material.

He arches his hips into the touch.

He needs more. More skin, more heat, more _ anything. _ Anything that the man above him is willing to give. He can something burning under his skin as Victor continues to gently stroke him- Victor’s taste, his smell, his touch- everything drawing him back in until the only thought pulsing through his mind is _ Victor, Victor, Victor. _

It’s graceless, messy, every brush of Victor’s lips the sweetest pain against his overheated skin. It’s heaven and hell all in one, everything he wants and nothing that he needs, it’s what Victor and him always were. What they always will be.

He clumsily pulls at his own clothes, desperate for the sweet press of Victor’s bare skin again his own. He feels something rip as he tugs his shirt over his head, but can’t find it in him to care as he tosses it over the edge of the bed. Especially when the cool of the air is instantly replaced with the heated caress of Victor’s mouth. He presses a few gentle kisses to the skin over his heart, lingering there for just a few seconds before shifting over to slowly drag his tongue across Yuuri’s nipple.

Yuuri’s mouth falls open in a silent moan. His hips desperately rock up to meet Victor’s as he continues to lick and suck before lightly tugging the sensitive point between his teeth.

He’s definitely making noises now.

As he reaches for his belt, he feels his hands being softly pushed away. Looking down, a new wave of heat pushes through him as Victor drops his head to his naval, lips tracing a maddengling hot pattern as he mumbles against his skin. “_ Please. Let me.” _

He barely registers his answering groan as he moves his hands, gently resting them in the soft mess of Victor’s hair. His belt is off in seconds, Victor’s fingers slowly stroking the sensitive skin under his waistband before firmly tugging off his jeans and underwear in one swift motion. He doesn’t even fully register his own nakedness before Victor is back between his legs, lightly kissing the tip of his stiff cock before swallowing him down with a practiced efficiency. 

_ “Fuck.” _ The curse drops from his mouth before he can stop himself, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in months suddenly shooting through his system.

He’d almost forgotten just how _ good _Victor was. How downright sinful the wicked combination of his lips and tongue were when he set his mind on something. He takes Yuuri almost all the way in, wrapping his fingers around what he can’t fit and stroking firmly. He works him mercilessly, alternating between moving his head up and down his entire shaft and stroking the length of him in his hand while pressing firm, warm kisses down the side. After a few hot minutes, he feels Victor exhale against him, taking him in again as his tongue focuses intently on a sweet spot just under the head.

Stars explode behind Yuuri’s eyes.

He pulls firmly on Victor’s head until he releases his cock, his lips pink and plump from his efforts.

Yuuri feels himself blush harder.

“Too much,” he murmurs as he guides Victor back up his body, wrapping his arms around his neck as their lips softly meet again._ “I don’t want to end this yet.” _

He tastes himself on Victor’s mouth as they kiss. He _ loves _ it.

Yuuri lets himself fall against Victor, blindly reaching for the other man so he can bury himself in the flecked white canvas of his skin. He presses desperate kisses to every mark and scar that he can find, like he can somehow wipe away the darkness inside.

As he feels himself step back from the burning edge of his impending orgasm, he gently pushes Victor onto his back, leaning down to softly trace his lips down the pinkening skin of throat. He presses down a little harder when Victor moves, straddling him carefully and leaning down to capture his lips again. “Keep still,” he murmurs firmly, tracing the fingers down the curve of Victor’s hip. “Don’t want to aggravate the stitches do we?”

There’s a different kind of sparkle in Victor’s eyes when Yuuri pulls back a little, his tongue briefly darting out to lick his bottom lip. “Yes _ Doctor _.”

Heat flashes through Yuuri’s cheeks at the tease, memories of the last time Victor had called him that in bed playing vividly in front of his eyes. 

He doesn’t expect it to hurt as much as it does.

He pushes the sourness away by leaning down to silence Victor’s smart mouth with his own, swallowing his desperate groan as he reaches down to stroke Victor’s warm length, lightly petting his thumb across the tip.

The answering moan is the sweetest melody to his ears.

He caresses Victor for a long, slow minute, drinking his gasps like the richest wine before blindly reaching into his open bedside drawer, rummaging through his socks until he finds the lube and condoms he’d stashed at the back.

He pulls away from Victor’s mouth to toss him the condom and squeeze some of the lube into his own hand, smirking at Victor’s wide eyes as he reaches behind himself to finger himself open.

He keeps his lips connected to Victor’s body as he works, muffling his whimpers and gasps into his skin as he sinks, one- two then three fingers inside himself. He keeps his eyes closed as he goes, the dark look in Victor’s eyes just that little bit too much.

It’s not like he hadn’t done this to himself before, but it had been a while since he’d had someone watch him so intently, since he could feel how much they enjoyed it.

He’s surprised when he feels the soft press of Victor’s fingers ghost up and down his sides, his lips whispering delicious praise against him.

“_ Beautiful... stunning… perfection.” _

It’s barely any time before he feels his own patience growing thin, the need to be connected suddenly blindly guiding his actions as he pulls his hand free.

He squeezes some more lube into his hand, watching with burning eyes as Victor unrolls the condom ontp his erection before slicking him up quickly.

He shifts into position, groaning loudly as he feels Victor’s length brush up against his entrance.

For once his mind is blissfully quiet. No doubt, no fear, not one whisper of what the consequences of doing this would probably be- only one thought sitting heavy and hot at the front of his mind.

He needs this. Now.

He bites his lip as he finally sinks down. The stretch is a little strange, the feeling familiar yet alien at the same time. He takes a few seconds to adjust to the feelings as he’s filled, Victor’s fingers biting hard into his skin as he wiggles a little.

_ God it really has been too long. _

He’s brought back to the moment by the feeling of Victor’s hands releasing his hips and stroking slowly up and down his sides. Opening his eyes he catches the gentle smile on Victor’s face, his eyes inviting and warm like a lone candle in the dark.

Yuuri swallows. Sometimes he forgets just how beautiful he really is.

And that he wanted _ him _of all people.

Yuuri leans down to kiss him once more before shifting his hips a little. He starts out slowly, keep the rhythm achingly gentle before increasing his pace little by little.

He sips the moans from Victor’s lips as he moves, tossing his own head back as he feels Victor’s cock brush his sweet spot as he moves faster. He chases the feeling, his own cries deep and echoing as Victor’s cock hits that spot on every movement, sparks of ecstasy fizzing throughout him with each thrust.

Eventually their movements dissolve into a disorganised mess of hands and skin and sweat, Yuuri moving erratically above Victor to chase the burning thread of his pleasure, Victor’s hands scrabble all over Yuuri’s rapidly pinkening skin, desperately trying to find purchase as he thrusts up into him.

Yuuri doesn’t silence his cry when Victor’s hand wraps around his cock, stroking him firmly in time with his own movements.

Yuuri feels his end barreling towards him at a blistering speed, his hips starting to stutter as everything around him dissolves into a gold, wet blur.

No past, no future, just Yuuri and Victor. Here. Together.

Like they should be.

That last thought lingers a little at the front of his mind as he finally comes, the sweet mess of the last few minutes slowly starting to ebb away as he starts to still.

He feels Victor finish barely moments after, eyes screwed shut, head tossed back into the pillow beneath as he gasps out his name on a desperate breath.

Yuuri takes a few seconds to centre himself before gently pulling himself off of Victor and collapsing back onto the duvet, chest heaving with heavy breaths. He hears Victor shift and grunt softly before he feels something being pressed into his hand. Opening his eyes, he sees the tissues form his bedside table now in his grip.

“You’ll probably need those,” Victor murmurs, leaning over press his lips to Yuuri’s temple before turning back to dispose of the condom.

He feels the kiss burn against his skin, like he’d been poked with the wrong end of a curling iron.

It was too familiar, too normal. As the bliss of his orgasm fades away, he feels the cold light of the situation shine gaudy and loud in his mind.

It’s not who they are anymore.

He stares down at the tissue in his hand, robotically cleaning himself as the fear of just what the hell they were supposed to do now starts to settle.

He hadn’t done anything he didn’t want, had plenty of time to turn away and blank his mind until Victor had gone- but he hadn’t. 

A different kind of sweat starts to prickle on his skin.

He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t wanted this.

He feels his breath catch a little. Barely two hours ago he was telling Victor how they could never be normal again, how there wasn’t a shred of hope for the two of them and now he’d gone and done… this.

Briefly looking over to Victor, he can’t help the pit that drops in his stomach at just how- _ happy _he looks. His eyes drifting closed, hands clasped behind his head, the gentlest grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he reclines against the pillows.

It’s such a peaceful sight. And it just… isn’t right. 

Yuuri crumples the tissue a little harder between his fingers. 

He knows they can’t stay like this, that there’s not any way they can ever go back to what they were, that Victor must _ know that _ and yet he’s not sure if he can bring himself to say the words again.

_ To tell him to go. _

He takes a heavy breath and turns to Victor, the words cold and sour on his tongue.

“Victor. I-”

Victor holds up his hand, shaking his head gently. “It’s okay, you don’t need to say it.” He chuckles at Yuuri’s furrowed brow, reaching out to lightly brush the edge of his jaw with his knuckle. “I’ll still be gone by the morning.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen at the words, surprised more than anything. “Victor-”

Victor shakes his head again, shifting just a little closer. “I’m not naive. I know what this was. And even if I think that I know how you feel-” he takes a breath, dropping his gaze a little. “I’m not going to ask you to run away with me when I already know what the answer is.”

Yuuri feels his mouth go a little dry.

_ Going away with Victor. _

So wrong. So tempting.

He can imagine Victor asking, can almost taste the plea from his mouth, the way he’d hold him, tell him how everything was going to be alright.

He looks down, fingers gripping a little tighter around the blanket.

_ Would he really have said no? _

He could see it vividly. Moving somewhere new, somewhere quieter, somewhere where they could live new lives, be new people. Maybe they really could have it all, a house, a garden, a family, ten dogs-

He stops the fantasy before he can go any further, an old pain starting to burn in the back of his throat.

That was their dream, but that’s all it ever could be. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually whispers, the words hurting bitterly as they leave his mouth.

Victor’s smile doesn’t falter. “There isn’t anything to be sorry for. But- I will say thank you.”

Yuuri cocks his head. “For what?”

Victor leans in a little bit more, gingerly reaching out to brush his fingers through the errant strands of Yuuri's hair. “At least I can remember you like this now.”

The words are bittersweet in the air, Yuuri perfectly aware of the ache Victor is hiding behind the mask of contentment stapled into his face. He doesn’t move away as Victor continues to stroke his head, the friction sweet and relaxing.

It’s Victor that finally separates them, his hand dropping from Yuuri’s head so he can tangle their fingers together on top of the duvet.

Yuuri doesn’t stop himself as he lightly strokes the back of Victor’s hand with his thumb, the tiredness of the last few hours finally starting to sink in like a warm, crushing weight around them.

They both eventually fall back against the pillows, fingers seperating as Victor blindly reaches behind himself to turn off the lamp.

Yuuri can just about make out the outline of Victor’s silhouette through the shadows, the way he moves just that little bit closer to pull the duvet up over both of them.

“Take care of yourself. Please,” Yuuri murmurs into the dark, words achingly sincere.

He hears Victor’s answering chuckle. “Well you know me. Trouble tends to find me wherever I go. But I always make it out just fine.”

Yuuri squeezes his hand a little tighter before finally letting go, not dropping his eyes from the shadows of Victor’s face. “Yeah. You do.”

They don’t say anything more. Yuuri considers getting up and sleeping somewhere else, but after everything he just can’t bring himself to move. He lays on his side, sheets pulled right up to his shoulders, hand casually draped towards the middle of the bed. It isn’t an invitation as such, but he doesn’t move away when Victor reaches out to gently rest his hand against Yuuri’s forearm, the weight surprisingly comforting as he lets himself finally fall into dreams.

***

Yuuri can feel he’s alone the instant he wakes.

The early morning light barely illuminates his room, but he can still see the vacant space next to him on the bed. As he sits up, he notices that the remaining half of the duvet has been carefully wrapped around him, his glasses now resting in the spot Victor had once been.

Yuuri swallows the sob grating in his throat as he reaches for them.

He can feel the slightest warmth radiating from the mattress, proof that it hadn’t been long since he’d left. His hand rests there for a minute, trying to sort through the cold fuzziness of his early morning thoughts.

He knows he couldn’t have stayed, that this was what he should want-

So why was he secretly hoping he’d still be here when he woke?

He sighs quietly, rubbing his eyes as he falls back against the bedding.

He knows his life can never go back to the way it was- hell he’d realised that the day after Victor had crashed into it, but after last night, he’s starting to think that maybe he doesn’t want things to go back to the way they were. Not completely anyway.

He closes his eyes again, concentrating on the soft whir of the world obviously carrying on outside his window.

Even if it still hurts, at least it’s a different sort of ache.

Rolling over to the other side of the bed, he lets himself indulge just a little, breathing in the lingering richness of Victor’s scent one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting!
> 
> This was such a fun project to work on! I have to give a massive shoutout to my bang partner Impatvish, but also all of the mods on discord who really helped make this event so fun to be a part of!
> 
> (Sorry for the pain. I promise the next thing I post will be MUCH happier)

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for part 2 next Saturday ;) 
> 
> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](https://ravensmores.tumblr.com/) \- @ravensmores  
Or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/RavensmoresFics) \- @ravensmoresfics


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